


One, two, Three, Four: What are we fighting for?

by Soulbarebones



Series: Asterisk [37]
Category: Original Work
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulbarebones/pseuds/Soulbarebones





	One, two, Three, Four: What are we fighting for?

They hadn't even been on a date when Elliot first gave himself over to Paul's gentle, commanding tone, and for that reason alone, he'd been reluctant to give more of himself.

The second time they'd met, it had been on Leather Night in a S&M club, and though they'd gone for pie and talked for hours afterward, it still hadn't felt right.

Nor after the first official date to Aquarium with lunch in Quincy Market...

Or after the second, where Paul surprised him with lunch at the Museum.

Elliot still hadn't given it up after the third date, tapas, followed by drinks at Whiskey Saigon, not even after Paul had teasingly said, "Third time's a charm, right?"

Or after the fourth: tea, coffee, and pastries while they walked around the bay...

"Elliot, if you don't like me, you should stop saying yes every time I ask you out..." Paul sighed, leaning on the rail overlooking the waterway after Elliot had leaned away from an attempted kiss.

"You think I don't like you?" Elliot frowned and tightened his grip on his tea cup, twisting the cardboard hand shield as he stared at the little waves lapping against the concrete.

Paul was quiet. 

Elliot looked over, briefly squinting against the sun. "I like you very much. But..."

"But?"

"But I tend to rush things." He went back to fiddling with his cup. "You're dangerous."

"I'm dangerous?" Paul laughed incredulously.

"For me? Yes." Elliot nodded sagely. "You're just the right combination of all the things that I go for. And...I'm afraid."

"Of?"

"Getting hurt. Again." Elliot spared another glance for Paul and met his eyes. Nodded. "But I do, very much like you."

Paul reached out then, his gaze softening as he brushed one of Elliot's sideburns with his thumb, then curled his fingers around his ear, then down to trace the line of his jaw. 

Elliot felt himself melt a bit, and he sucked in a deep breath. This was what he was talking about. The kindness in his eyes. The gentle sureness of his touch.The way he could command Elliot without a word.

Paul thumbed Elliot's lower lip and chin, all while gazing at him wistfully. Then he, too, turned his eyes back to the water. "I'm afraid too, you know."

"Of getting hurt?" Elliot thought maybe he'd suss out a story of Paul's own pain, level the playing field. 

But Paul shook his head. "I'm afraid to hurt you too."

 

 

It was on serendipity alone, that Elliot and Paul ran into each other, almost literally, at Taste, a popular luncheon spot just a short ways away from the museum.

"Elliot!" Paul was clearly delighted to see him, and Elliot would have been equally so, if it weren't for the fact that he was rushing back with lunch for a meeting.

"Paul, oh my God!" He darted through the door as Paul held it open, turning to face him even as he stepped backward. "I can't believe you're...I have to..."

He knew how it looked, how it sounded. Like another flimsy excuse to run off and this time without so much as a hello. How much longer would Paul's patience last? How much longer would he be willing to keep Elliot on the line? How many more nights was Elliot going to torture himself, thinking about Paul and all the what-if's?

"I can't stop," Elliot explained, moving back toward Paul. 

Paul's hand came out, resting lightly on his waist. "It's okay, I understand..."

"Please, will you call me later?"

"Sure," Paul said with an air so casual that Elliot was suddenly afraid he was losing him.

Impulsively, Elliot pushed up on his toes, pressing a kiss to Paul's mouth. They both seemed surprised by the boldness of it and Paul's fingers curled a bit more firmly at Elliot's waist. For his part, Elliot only clung more tightly to his sandwich and tea. He kissed Paul again, two more times. The electric current that seemed to linger between them was even more intense when they were connected by little more than their mouths.

The last kiss was barely more than chaste, just a quick parting of lips that gave the slightest taste...

"Please..." Elliot danced back again. "Please call me. I have to go, I'm so sorry. Call me." 

Paul nodded and laughed, his fingers moving to his lips. Then, he made a shooing motion. "I'll call you. Go, go, before you're late. Go."

Elliot believed him. He had to. He fled. Halfway back, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, although he didn't spare a moment to check it until the meeting was through. The whole while, he was giddy and flush, his own fingers dancing across his lips more than once. It was silly. It was boyish.

When the meeting was through, he checked the time on his phone and remembered the message.

Tonight??

He ducked around a corner and against the wall, heart suddenly hammering in his chest as he typed, Your place or mine?, only to backspace the entire message and start over. Yes! My treat this time...

Every time I'm with you is a treat. Pick you up at 8?

Sounds good.

See you then. 8D

Elliot bit his lower lip, closed his eyes, and held his phone to his chest. This was absurd. This was juvenile. This was...absolutely the best feeling in the world.


End file.
